


Electric Twist

by wolfstarstruck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Wolfstar AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfstarstruck/pseuds/wolfstarstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolfstar AU, Sirius Black meets Remus Lupin at a bar, where the latter is performing with his band. Sirius is immediately smitten and determined to court the singer, no matter how many bars he has to visit in the process. Unedited WIP, will probably be deleted soon to finish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electric Twist

Sirius Black loved music just as much as the next bloke, but that wasn’t the reason he loved going to live shows so much; he went for the atmosphere, the feeling that everyone was there for the same reason and enjoying it just as much as he was. He loved everyone shouting out the lyrics even if they had never even heard of the band playing until half an hour ago, but most of all he loved just watching the musicians singing and playing their instruments, looking like they didn’t have a care in the world, living in the moment and only thinking of what song they were going to play next.

In his little part of London, they had a live show going practically every night of the week, most of them free or only a few quid. Never one to do things alone, Sirius always tried to get his best friend, James Potter, to go with him, but four out of five times he claimed that he was too busy doing things with Lily, who had recently agreed to go out with him after what seemed like decades of James’s pestering. Ever since their relationship started a few months prior, the two had been inseparable, and since Lily didn’t seem to like all the noise and commotion of the shows Sirius loved, James didn’t, either. Sirius thought it was a lot to go through for a shag, but he figured that James would come around soon enough when the initial shock of dating the girl of his dreams wore off. By his calculations, that day would come just in time for Sirius’s birthday.

Right on cue, the night before Sirius’s January thirteenth birthday, James and Lily (one looking far more enthused than the other) showed up at his doorstep unannounced, saying they were going to take him to a nearby show they had heard about with an up-and-coming band they were sure he would love. He didn’t know how much of this ‘they’ Lily was included in, but he was excited none the less; these things were always so much better when James was there with him. He had taken to dragging Peter along as of late, and while he appreciated the company, Peter’s lack of musical opinion was really starting to irritate him.

On the way, James told him that he’d heard about them from a friend of Lily’s, and that they were an alternative pop band from the north called The Madness Within. He had no idea what the name was about – she’d told him they changed it every other day – but Sirius liked it. They played mostly cover songs that no one had ever heard of, but the lead singer – he thought his name was Seamus or Remus or something – ended every show with an original song.

Most of the shows Sirius had been to lately had been amateur singers butchering Led Zeppelin and Beatles songs, so anything even resembling an original song would be a nice change.

A few blocks away from the venue, Sirius sidled up to Lily’s side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “So, Evansie, how excited are you for this? I’m sure it was all your idea.

“Oh, yes, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing on a Friday night,” she replied sarcastically, trying to shrug his arm off her shoulder.

Sirius laughed, keeping it firmly planted there. “Well who does anything on Friday nights anymore? Everyone knows Tuesday’s the new Friday. Where’ve you been, Evans?” He laughed again, withdrawing his arm. “Always lots of attractive blokes at these things, too. Maybe you can finally upgrade from this bloke.” He nudged James in the side. “Not that that’s very hard to do, really.”

“Oi! Don’t be a git; we’re doing this for you, you know.” James nudged him back, practically pushing him down in the snow.

“Yes, because it’s my birthday. You’re allowed to do whatever you want on your birthday, especially if you’re me.” He smiled innocently, going back to James’s right side, where there were nice brick buildings to guard him from James’s onslaught. “How far away is this place, anyway? You know how much I hate walking.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I seem to’ve left my magical flying broomstick at home again. It’s just a block or two away, and it’ll be worth it, I know it.”

“Last time you said that about one of these things, half of the front row was set on fire,” Sirius muttered, rolling his eyes.

“And where were we? The other end, thanks to me, you unappreciative prat.” They turned the corner, almost bumping into a short line of people waiting outside a run-down looking building. “And here we are! I told you it wouldn’t take long.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking the place over. It certainly wasn’t the nicest building he had ever walked into, but he supposed it had a sort of…charm, if one looked at it long enough – which Sirius wasn’t planning on doing.

“This better be good, Jamie,” he warned him, taking his place in line.

“Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Yes. Twat.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The inside of the venue was, thankfully, drastically different from its façade. By the time they got in, it held about forty people, including the pub staff and whoever they were there to see. It had a nice, friendly atmosphere, with just enough lighting to prove it wasn’t as dank and dingy as it looked. The drinks were also cheap, which was always a plus in Sirius’s mind.

James looked more surprised than either of them at the condition of the place, and after looking around, he clapped Sirius on the back, obviously proud of himself. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

“I’ve seen better.” He smirked, looking over his shoulder at him. “Now go get some drinks, will you? I don’t plan on leaving here alone, and neither of you count in that equation.” With that, Sirius hung his snow-speckled jacket on a peg by the door and disappeared to scope out the crowd.

By the time James and Lily found him again, Sirius had found four potential hook-ups, but one in particular enthralled him more than any of the others. “He’s gorgeous,” Sirius whispered as his friends walked up, unabashedly staring over at the man.

James looked to where Sirius was staring. “Bit plain for my tastes,” he commented, handing him his drink – scotch on the rocks. “That, and he’s a bloke. Sort of a deal breaker.”

“But look at him!” Standing ten feet in front of him was a man, no older than he was, talking to two other people who appeared to be his friends. He had brown, mousy hair, slightly stuck up at the back but still swooshy. He talked with his hands, gesturing them every which way as he spoke, apparently telling a story. His legs, glad in tight black denims, seemed to go on forever, and he definitely had one of the best arses Sirius had ever seen. He was wearing a Sex Pistols T-shirt with a long-sleeved shirt underneath and a thumb-sized hole in the hem, which he fingered idly as he listened to his friends talk. Noticing Sirius watching him, he looked over, smiling awkwardly before ushering his friends onto the stage.

“He’s in the band? Oh, I definitely have to have him now.” He grinned, looking over at James, who was giving him his classic ‘If you embarrass me in front of Lily I’m never talking to you again’ look. Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Who can resist me? I won’t even have to try.”

“I knew I never should’ve talked to you that first day of school,” he muttered, taking a sip of his drink – scotch without the rocks.

“Mate, if I hadn’t taken pity and sat by you at lunch, you would’ve landed someone a hell of a lot worse than a ginger.” He said this quiet enough so Lily wouldn’t hear, grinning and taking a sip himself. “I don’t think you’ve ever even thanked me.”

They continued bickering until the crowd started to hush, the lights dimming even further. They took their seats, and after a few moments the bloke Sirius had been staring at came out. He hopped onto a barstool set behind a microphone, gracefully hooking his feet in the bottom rungs as he swung a guitar over his shoulder, settling it on his lap. He appeared to take a deep breath before he started strumming, and Sirius recognized it as the beginning chords of “Here Comes the Sun.”

Soon after, two more people took their place on stage – one behind a keyboard (although currently holding a tambourine, since this wasn’t a particularly keyboard-heavy song) and the other behind a set of drums.

Sirius was entranced from the very beginning. They managed to sing and play the song in such a way that it was reminiscent of the original version while still being unique to their own style. They kept this up throughout the rest of their set, which ranged from the Beatles to the Rolling Stones to Alice Cooper to Elvis Presley (Sirius thought he even heard Mott the Hoople while he was in the loo), and by the end of it Sirius was dying to hear what they were going to end with.

“This next one is one I wrote a few weeks ago. It’s called, um, Chariot.” The song started out with a long string of piano, beautifully played by the brown-haired boy at the keys. When the piano finally ended, the spotlight found the lead singer – Remus – who was standing behind the mic stand, gripping it and swaying along with the notes. “Sitting at a maple leaf, leaning on the mother tree, I said to myself, we all lost touch. Your favorite fruit is chocolate-covered cherries, and seedless watermelon, oh…nothing from the ground is good enough. Body rise, it puts over me…”

It sounded much different than most of the other songs they had played, but it seemed to fit them so much better. Remus seemed much more in his element, his eyes closed most of the time, almost as if he didn’t even know any of them were there. Sirius thought it was incredible.

“…to guide me, give me your...strength…” The piano took over again, and Remus opened his eyes, giving his awkward smile as he looked over to watch his friend at the piano. The solo didn’t last as long as last time, and before long Remus’s voice drifted back across the room. “You’ll be my vacation away from this place. You know what I want, holding that cup; it’s pouring over the sides, makes me wanna spread my arms and fly,” and it went back into the chorus, which slowly dissolved into quieting piano before the crowd started cheering, Sirius the loudest of all.

Sirius and the singer made brief eye contact again, recognition flashing across the latter’s face before he looked away again, quickly gathering up their things and making his way off the stage. The applause faded as people got up to refill their drinks, but Sirius stayed where he was, waiting for the band to make another appearance.

“Pretty good, huh?” James commented as he and Lily got up to follow the crowd to the bar. After giving one last look to the stage, Sirius begrudgingly followed.

“’Pretty good’? Jamie, if I die tomorrow I will not have a single regret.” He smiled, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “I can die happy.”

“Good, because if you don’t get your arm off me I’m going to kill you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remus was always hyped up after shows. Even when the crowd didn’t cheer for them (and they hadn’t on a number of occasions) he still felt the adrenaline from being on stage coursing through his veins, and he felt like he could do anything. He was rolling on the balls of his feet as he helped his bandmates load up the van, letting them go back to their flat (Arthur and Frank shared a flat while Remus had his own nearby) alone, saying they’d catch up with him later. They always got free drinks when they played at a bar, usually in place of an actual paycheck, and for once Remus was planning on taking full advantage of that.

Before he could get there, though, he was stopped by the black-haired bloke he had seen staring at him twice already. He stopped, almost surprised to see him again, quickly looking him up and raising his eyebrows. He was good-looking – extremely so – with dark hair just above his shoulders that somehow seemed to shine in the dim lighting. They were dressed similarly, in tight denims and a T-shirt, Sirius’s a simple gray with a slight V-neck that seemed to fit him perfectly.

Remus was starting to regret looking him over when Sirius started talking, and the man was halfway through his sentence before Remus managed to look up at him. “What?” he interrupted, slightly dazed.

Sirius grinned, obviously used to this type of reaction. “I said that I thought you guys did a good job.”

“Oh. Um, thank you.” He smiled, fingering the hole in the hem of his shirt, one of his many nervous habits. “I thought we got a good reaction. Better than most places, at least.”

“I especially liked that song at the end. Did you really write it yourself?”

He nodded. “Yeah, a few weeks ago. I’m not really sure if I like it yet, but I’ve already performed all of my others this week so I figured I’d try it out.” He chuckled, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “At least I didn’t forget the words.”

“Well it’s not like anyone but you would’ve known.” Sirius grinned again, leaning forward. “So, um…buy you a celebratory drink?”

Remus was about to mention that he drank for free, but he decided against it and gave him a smile, nodding. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Where are your friends?”

Apparently just remembering that he wasn’t there alone, Sirius looked around, not giving much of a search before shrugging and turning back to him. “Probably off to snog somewhere. I’ll catch up with them later. Shall we?”

Remus laughed to himself as he followed him to the bar, taking a seat between Sirius and a big, burly man he wouldn’t want to be alone in an alley with. “Oi, I didn’t even get your name,” he said as he ordered himself a beer, wanting to be as discreetly cheap as possible.

“Black. Sirius Black.”

The corner of Remus’s mouth turned up at the James Bond reference, and he extended his hand to Black, Sirius Black, shaking his hand. “Remus Lupin. Fantastic to meet you.”

“Oh, the honor is all mine,” he said, shaking his hand in return. “I’ve been dying to meet you all night.”

“I noticed you staring at me when you got here. I have to admit, it made me a bit self-conscious. Thought I had food in my teeth or something.”

He chuckled, taking a sip of his refilled drink. “No, nothing like that. I just thought you were the most gorgeous bloke I’d ever seen.”

Remus nearly choked on his drink. “Pardon?”

“Too strong?” He gave his infamous grin, hiding it behind another sip. “I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious. I thought you were wonderful up there.”

“Um, thank you,” he managed to get out, putting his bottle on a worn-out coaster. “I try not to eat anything green before going up there.” So this bloke was hitting on him. At first, he had just seemed overly-friendly, but after that comment, there was no denying it.

Remus had never considered himself gay; he seemed to like both birds and blokes just the same, and while he always pictured himself with a man more than a woman, he had never thought much into it. It was a rare occasion for him to go on a date with anyone at all, so he doubted if his friends even knew of his preferences, although he doubted they would care.

“Shouldn’t you be looking for your friends?” Remus asked after another sip, clearing his throat. “I’m sure they’re getting worried.”

“Them? They’ve probably forgotten all about me. Doubt they’re even here anymore.” He shrugged, making half an effort to look around again. “I’ll bug them later. You’re more interesting.”

"That so?” He raised his eyebrows. “Tell me about yourself then, Mr. Black. Convince me you’re not just trying to seduce and murder me.”

He chuckled, swirling around the half-melted ice in his drink and thinking. “Well, I’m eight –” he looked at his watch, “– eighteen, nineteen in approximately twenty minutes. I’m a football player, horrible student, terrible influence on everyone I meet, at least according to my mother, currently estranged son, and avid dog enthusiast.” He smiled brightly. “I’m a real catch.”

Aside from the dog enthusiast, those were all qualities Remus wasn’t looking for in a potential relationship, yet for some reason he didn’t seem to be put off at all by the man who as currently ordering them both another drink.

“This is how you’re spending the night before your birthday?” he asked, thanking him and accepting the drink, even though he was only halfway done with his first. He quickly finished that one, not wanting to fall behind. “Buying drinks for a stranger you met at a bar?”

“I honestly can’t think of a better way. Have you guys had a lot of gigs here?”

He shook his head. “Not here, no. This is the first. We’ve had about a dozen so far, though, throughout the area, even one all the way in the south of London. We barely made enough to pay for the trip there and back, but the crowd was three times bigger than this one and we weren’t booed off stage once, so I think it was a success.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would even think about booing you off. Some of those artists are hard to live up to, and I don’t even think they’d have done anything but cheer with the rest of us.”

“I know you’re just saying that to get in my pants,” he half-teased, not convinced it wasn’t at least partly true.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. “Well I’ve told you about me; I think it’s time you return the favor.”

He was almost hoping that Sirius would turn out to be the self-centered prick he appeared to be and therefore wouldn’t ask or necessarily care about Remus, but of course, he had to be at least halfway decent. “Um… Well, I’m in a band. I like to read books. I guess I was a good student, my grades were good and stuff, but the other students didn’t seem to like me so I never liked school. My mum never let me have a dog so I can’t say I’m an enthusiast but I think they’re cute. I’ve got a cat.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose, making a gagging noise. “I hate cats. Bane of my existence, they are. Always prancing around, thinking they’re the best thing since sliced bread. They’re almost as bad as dolphins.”

He laughed at the comparison, taking a moment to look Sirius over again. He almost looked like a dog himself – shaggy hair, bright eyes, an obvious need to please. He seemed to practically beam whenever he noticed Remus looking at him. “Well Meow thinks he’s more of a dog than a cat, so you wouldn’t hate him that much.”

“Wait, you named your cat Meow?”

“No! Well…kind of. There’s this guy, Mao Zedong, who used to be the Chairman of the Communist Party of China. I was reading a book about him when I found Meow outside my flat, and…well, I found it amusing.” He could feel his face growing warm, distracting himself with another long drink.

Sirius stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. “Can I meet him?” he asked after he calmed down, still chuckling.

Remus paused, looking over at him. “Meet him? At my flat? Where I live?”

“Well, unless you keep him in your pocket…” He smiled innocently. “I just want to see if he lives up to his name. I don’t even have to go inside.”

“U-Um…but how do you know I’m not some kind of murderer trying to lure you in with promises of amusingly-named cats?”

“Because if you were, you would’ve said you had a dog instead of a cat after I told you that I liked them.”

He gave him a look, tilting his head to the side. “…I’ll tell you what. It’s getting late, and we’ve got an early practice tomorrow, but we’re playing a couple minutes from here tomorrow night…” He look around, grabbing a napkin and a pen, scribbling down the name and address and handing it to him. “Come see us tomorrow and maybe I’ll introduce you to my cat.” He finished the rest of his drink, grinning and disappearing into the thinning crowd.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next night, James and Lily were busy (or at least they claimed to be), and he didn’t necessarily want to bring Peter if there was even a chance that he could be going home with Remus, so he decided it best to just go alone.

He remembered the name of the place, had been there a few times with friends, but it didn’t look anything like he remembered. Compared to last night’s pub, it was a dump, with unidentifiable spills on the floor, peanut shells littering the ground, and a general vibe about the place that practically made his skin crawl. If he hadn’t caught a glimpse of one of Remus’s bandmates – the ginger one (had he told him their names?) – by the bar when he walked in, he would’ve been sure that this was just some distraction to get Sirius to leave him alone.

“Suppose they can’t all be gems,” he muttered to himself with a shrug, going over to get himself a drink. He would’ve struck up a conversation with Ginger if he’d still been there, but by the time Sirius made his way to the bar, he’d disappeared. Remus had never specified what time they would be going on, but it was nearing nine o’clock, so he figured it wouldn’t be too much longer.

He slid into a stool, back against the bar, cradling his glass in his lap as he looked to what looked like a small, makeshift stage, hardly more than a few pieces of wood stuck together. As of right then, there wasn’t more than a microphone stand (no actual mic in sight) up front and possibly a drumstick on the ground.

Hoping that he wouldn’t have to entertain himself for another hour, he finished his drink in a few gulps and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, hopping off the stool and going to investigate. Sincerely doubting there was any sort of ‘backstage’ in this place, he looked around the stage, finding Remus in a matter of moments. He smiled brightly, waiting until he didn’t look busy and going over, casually leaning against a beam next to him. “Getting a bit late, isn’t it?”

With all the commotion going on around him, it seemed to take Remus a moment to notice him, but he smiled when he saw him, raising his eyebrows. “Almost didn’t think you’d show up. I guess Frank’s having some trouble with the keyboard, so he recruited some people who know a lot more about fixing it than I do to help. I have no idea what’s wrong with it, but Frank’s a genius at this stuff so it should be working again in no time.” He looked at his watch. “We were supposed to go on half an hour ago, though.”

Sirius gave a quick look around the place. “I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think anyone’s noticed.”

Remus gave a wry chuckle, running his hand through his hair as he looked at the three or four (it was hard to tell in the dark) people huddled around a keyboard. “I’d be surprised if any of them knew we were here at all, honestly. I don’t think this place usually has live music, and I don’t even know how we got this gig in the first place. All seems a bit sketchy to me, but I didn’t want to question it. It’s better than nothing, hopefully.” He smiled, shrugging. “Did your friends tag along?”

“No, they have ridiculous couple-y things they need to take care of, apparently. Personally, I just don’t think they want to watch me drool over you all night again.”

Remus blushed, quickly turning to look at his friend again. “And you don’t have ridiculous couple-y things you need to take care of with anyone?”

“Me? Of course not. My standards are far too high.”

“Well, I hope we don’t disappoint.” He smiled, giving him a wave and hurrying off to continue preparations.

Sirius had sat himself in a stool with another drink when he noticed Remus coming onto the makeshift stage, fiddling with the microphone. If he squinted to the left he could barely make out another shadow, apparently setting up a keyboard, with a drum set already set up in the back.

When they were all ready, Remus cleared his throat, tapping his finger against the microphone. It took a few times to get the audience’s attention, but when he did, he made the standard quick introductions before starting in on a song. He started out with Killer Queen – a bit strong for a beginning, Sirius thought, but he wasn’t about to complain.

As he looked around, he noticed that many of the patrons seemed more interested in their drinks and each other than the music. Every once in a while, a drunk girl would turn away from the bloke ogling her and sway to the music, but from what he saw, he was the only one avidly paying attention to what was going on. Which was a shame, since the song selections seemed to be even better than the previous night, with songs like Hey Jude, by The Beatles; September, by Earth, Wind & Fire; Black Dog, by Led Zeppelin; and Your Song, by Elton John. Sirius particularly liked that one.

After a few more songs, when more people were starting to pay attention, Remus cleared his throat again, adjusting the stand. “Um…um, tonight, as usual, I’ve written something that I’d like to…perform.” He smiled nervously, playing with the stand again before looking back at his friends, nodding his head. The piano started shortly before he started, the drums joining in right when Remus started. “At seventeen she left London bound for Hollywood. Another story like the ones you’ve heard before. He left her broken, like you figured, like you knew he would. She shut her heart after his ring rang off the door.”

Well, this is certainly different, Sirius thought as he watched him. Last night’s song was certainly more upbeat.

“It’s the story of your life; you’re tearing out the page. New chapter’s underway. The story of your life; you live it every day. You can run, you run, but you won’t get away. I don’t know what’s coming up, or where you’ll go now. It’s the story of your life.”

Sirius wasn’t sure why, but he thought he liked this song better than the first one he’d heard.

“There’s a reason that we live so far from Hollywood. In the country, looking hard to find a home. We’re nothing perfect, all considered, but we’re so damn good.”  
He could’ve sworn Remus looked at him when he sang that part.

“It’s the story of your life; you’re moving down the page. And you know you’re on your way. The story of your life, you live it every day. You can run, you run, but you won’t get away. No one knows what’s coming up – where will you go now? It’s the story; it’s your story; it’s the story of your life.”

This time, there wasn’t much clapping – a few drunken cheers and what could be passed off as clapping, but other than that, the crowd of patrons drifting back off to their previous engagements.

Sirius was happy to cheer and clap, even if he was the only one doing it. Almost immediately after the song ended, though, Remus started cleaning off the stage, apparently unaffected by the lack of reaction.

Sirius waited until they had cleared everything off before looking before him again. “I think the piano was a bit off,” he said as he leaned against a beam again, looking at Remus. “But you still managed to make it sound all right.”

“Just all right?” Remus asked in amusement, helping Arthur break apart the drum set.

“Some parts were a bit flat, in my opinion, but I can’t blame you for being nervous. It was a very tough crowd.”

“You’re telling me. Did you see the bloke sitting at the last table on the left? I was afraid he was going to throw his bottle at me after the first song.”

“I thought that and the Elton John were the best. That last one wasn’t too bad, either.”

Remus finished breaking it down, handing a cymbal to Arthur before brushing off his hands and turning to Sirius. “I’m not sure how I feel about that one just yet. I finished it last night so I thought I’d give it a shot. I didn’t think it’d hurt my career too much if it was awful, judging by how attentive these people had been up until that point.”

He smiled, pushing off the beam to stand up straight. “Well that was certainly their loss. Overall, I thought it was incredible.”

“Looks like you’re the only one,” he commented, looking back towards the door. “Um, well I think they’re heading home – my friends, I mean – so did you want to get a drink?”

“You buying this time?” he asked over his shoulder, already making his way to the bar.

“May I ask you something?” Remus asked over their third drink, placing his bottle back down on his useless, soaked-through napkin.

“Anything at all. Almost.”

“Why’d you come tonight?”

“Why? Because I’m your biggest fan, of course.”

“Oh, don’t say that. It’s too depressing.” He smiled, pushing his hair back from his face to look at him. “Really, though. Don’t try to flatter me.”

“All flattery aside, I really do think you’re good. Too good to perform in these dingy pits, anyway. Plus, you’re adorable, but in an almost intimidating way, and I just have an inane desire to know everything about you.”

“That so?” was all Remus could think to say, distracting himself with another drink.

Sirius nodded, not missing a beat before continuing. “But not in a creepy way – at least I don’t think so – you just seem so interesting. You don’t seem like the type of person to have a band at all, let alone one performing in places like this. Plus, I would really love to meet your cat.”

Remus almost smiled. “I knew you’d come for him. They always do.”

“I have to say, you really sold me on him. I think we could have a wonderful life together, him and I.”

He heaved a sigh, pretending to examine his fingernails. “He has been talking about you non-stop…”

Sirius brightened considerably. “He has? Oh, I knew he’d come around!”

“Do you promise not to steal him?”

“Remus, I don’t think I can make that promise.”

“At least return him within a week.” He smiled, finishing his drink and paying, standing up. “I’m sure this is a horrible decision, but I don’t have much to lose. I’ll call us a cab.” He squeezed past a large couple snogging next to the bar, making sure Sirius was following him before hurrying outside.

Sirius had no idea why he was so excited.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remus didn’t live very far from the pub, so after a short cab ride they were there. “Well, here it is,” he said, digging in his pocket for his keys. He lived on the ground floor of a renovated mansion in a small, one-bedroom flat with the landlord on one side of him and an old, possibly senile woman on the other. He didn’t know much about his upstairs neighbors, but in the year or so he’d been living there they hadn’t given him any trouble.

He finally found the key, unlocking the door. “It’s not much, but Meow seems to like it.” He smiled, opening the door and stepping inside, putting his keys in a bowl by the door. He went through the small living room and kitchen, turning on a few lights and lamps as he went. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, looking into his nearly-empty refrigerator. “Meow’s a bit shy around new people, so he might not come out for a while.”

“Oh, that’s all right. And no, I’m fine.” Sirius looked around, examining the little place. Even compared to his cheap flat, it wasn’t much, but it felt warm and inviting and not at all like a place that might possibly harbor rats or have mold above the shower. He could see why the cat liked it.

Remus brought over two beers, setting them on the cluttered coffee table despite Sirius saying he didn’t want anything. He did his best to pile the books and music magazines to one side, only to reveal old drink rings scattered across the surface. He sighed, shrugging and sitting down, gesturing for Sirius to do the same. “Sorry for the mess. I haven’t been here very much as of late.”

“Mess? Oi, you should see my place. I’m not sure if the bedroom’s got carpet or wood floors.” He laughed, popping open his beer before picking up a magazine, looking at the cover. “This is a local thing, right? I think I’ve seen some of them on the street. I’ve always preferred listening to my music rather than reading about it.”

“Oh, I think that’s the one we were featured in a few weeks ago. We had a different name, one I’m far too embarrassed to repeat, and we’ve got a tiny little paragraph all the way in the back that we’re pretty proud of.”

Of course, before Remus had even finished his sentence Sirius was halfway through the magazine, digging around to find them. He flipped to the back few pages, scanning it. There were only three bands talked about, and since two of them were country folk bands, it was relatively easy to find them. “The Moonlighters?” he asked, laughing. “Please tell me you didn’t come up with that.”

Remus grinned and blushed, opening his beer and taking a drink. “Frank’s idea, I think. It was late and we were probably drunk and it lasted all of a week. Just the wrong week, apparently. We’ve agreed to never mention it again.” With that, he snatched the magazine away, tossing it onto a stand next to the couch.

“Oi, I was just having a bit of fun.” He chuckled, sitting back. “How long’ve you had this name, then?”

“A little over a month, I think. It’s the longest one so far. We’ve had almost a dozen.”

“Well, I like this one much better than the one in there. That one made you sound like a group of middle-aged men trying to prove to the world that they were still hip.”

“You know, I think that’s just how the bloke described us in that article.”

“Preposterous. You couldn’t be a day over forty.”

“I’m flattered.” He propped his feet up on the coffee table, taking a sip of his beer. When his feet his the table, a small black cat shot out from under the table, hopping onto the table and chewing on Remus’s shoelaces. “Hey! Stop it!” He grabbed the cat, bopping him on the head. “I don’t know why, but he’s had a fixation with my shoelaces the past few weeks.

Sirius laughed, reaching over and scratching Meow’s head. The cat hissed at him, lunging for Remus’s shoelaces again, but he held him back. “You’re such a strange kitty,” Remus muttered, forcing him to stay in his lap. “On second thought, feel free to take him. I’m tired of buying new shoelaces.”

“I don’t know about that; he hasn’t quite sold me just yet. I guess he’s sort of cute.” He chuckled, scratching behind his ear before withdrawing his hand. “Is he completely black?”

“Almost. He’s got a white spot under his arm,” he said, turning the cat over onto his back and extending his right front leg, showing him a spot under it. “Other than that, completely black.” He smiled, righting him. “I don’t think he’s more than a year old, though. I hope he gets bigger; I think the other cats around here are ganging up on him. He seems to hold his own pretty well, though; it’s a bit frightening.”

“I’m sure I could take him.” He smirked, propping his feet up next to Remus’s as if he lived there himself. Meow hissed again and lunged for Sirius’s shoes; he slipped out of Remus’s grip, landing sideways on Sirius’s shin, digging his front claws into the denim and scrambling to stay upright. Remus and Sirius both gasped, Sirius instinctively kicking his leg to get him off, sending Meow flying behind the couch.

Remus scrambled onto his knees, turning around and peering behind the couch, but the cat had already darted back under, hissing. “Are you all right?” he asked Sirius as he turned back around, looking at his leg. He didn’t see any blood, but there were at least four visible holes right above the stitching.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Sirius reassured him, gingerly tugging up his pant leg, rolling it at the knee. There wasn’t any blood, but the puncture holes were an angry red.

“Let me find you something for that,” he said quickly, getting up and going to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, digging around until he found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball. “I haven’t the slightest idea if you’re actually supposed to do this, but it’s worked for me so far.” He sat back down next to him, gently dabbing a bit of the peroxide onto the wounds.

Sirius winced, doing his best not to move as he watched him, keeping hold of the top of the pant leg that he’d rolled up. “Does he do this often?” he asked, leaning over to blow on the drying liquid, hoping to reduce some of the stinging.

“I’ve only ever introduced him to Arthur and Frank, and he was fine with them, but he used to do it when I first found him. I thought he was just scared, though; he hasn’t done it in a while.” He sighed, putting the cap back onto the bottle and putting it next to the cotton ball on the table. “Does it hurt?”

“Just a bit, but I’ll be fine.” He smiled, picking up his beer and taking a swig. “Mum never let us have a dog growing up, but I found one in the woods behind our house and I used to go out and feed him every day. He took a few nips at me in the beginning, but we were mates in no time. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually.”

Remus was surprised Sirius hadn’t left already. “You want to see him again?”

He chuckled, shrugging. “Well, I’d like to see you again, and I assumed you were a package deal.”

“You don’t have to see me here,” he responded with a smile, propping his feet back up and crossing his ankles. “I thought you were our biggest fan? You can’t stop showing up to our shows already.”

“But out there I’ve got to share you with all those other drunkards.”

“Hardly. You seem to be the only one who ever pays any attention.”

“Well aren’t I lucky.” Meow poked his head out from under the couch, hissing in Sirius’s direction.

Remus rolled his eyes, scooping up the cat and holding him in his lap. “Oi, what’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be a nice kitty. You’re making a horrible first impression.”


End file.
